Chapter Three
Horatio
Igazed at my chief financial officer, uncomprehendingly. “You want me to bring a date?”
Bethany Maitland nodded. “Yes, Walter’s tired of having odd numbers at the table. It’s a charity event, Horatio. Find a date.”
Walter, Bethany’s extremely competent husband, handled most of the social affairs our office partook in.
I’d offered him a salary for all he did, but he liked to say he was just doing his husbandly duties.
Oddly, I was under the distinct impression he liked organizing social affairs.
Before I’d poached Bethany from one of my biggest rivals, I’d left social stuff to my admin assistant.
Mona had been quite happy to give all that up.
“I don’t…”
She arched an eyebrow. “That is what dating services are for. Several of them are for gay men. I’m certain you can find someone suitable.” She pivoted and headed out.
I’d made certain the women in the office were aware that pants were fine and high heels were not required.
Mona took the edict to heart and owned several smart pantsuits, but never wore skirts anymore.
Bethany staunchly refused to give up either the heels or the skirts.
I eyed my phone. Use a dating app? To find a gentleman suitable for a black-tie affair with the elite of Vancouver society?
That didn’t feel realistic. I shoved the thought aside, but as I rode the elevator up to my floor to my condo after my quick car ride, Kristoff’s words haunted me.
I didn’t spend much time with the masses.
I worked hard, had achieved significant professional success, and did whatever it took to sustain that level of excellence.
In truth, I dreaded the part of my job that involved schmoozing.
Oh, I enjoyed golf, just not all the unnecessary chitchat. Play, debrief, get out. That all felt very logical to me. Just like work, come home, work some more, go to bed. Simplicity. Charity events were a necessity, and I gave generously, but I could do without the wining and dining.
Loud music assaulted my hearing as I entered the condo. What the fuck?
I dropped my briefcase by the front door and followed the noise to the workout room.
To my relief, the noise was entirely the fault of Dade and not some intruder. Apparently, he had the speakers on full. Although why he wore earbuds as well was beyond me.
I strode to the treadmill and tapped him on the shoulder.
He lost his stride and nearly fell off, only managing to right himself at the last moment by grabbing the bars and moving his feet to the side.
“Dude!” He gasped the word. He hit the power button and, once the treadmill stopped, he unclipped the safety shut off from his shirt. He ripped out his earbuds, then winced. After a bit of fiddling with his phone, the music stopped.
My ears still rang.
He gave me a sheepish look. “Uh, sorry. I thought I had it so the music only came into my earbuds.”
I scowled. “Are you trying to go deaf?”
He winced. “No…?”
“Could’ve fooled me.” I spat out the words. “And you should always have situational awareness.”
Immediately, his hands went to his hips. “You snuck up behind me.”
“I did no such thing.” I gestured. “If you hadn’t had the volume on full, you absolutely would’ve heard me approaching.”
He held my gaze for a moment, then offered what I could only term a megawatt smile.
“Yeah, I suppose. Look, I’m going to have a shower, do you, uh…”
For one awful moment, I thought he was going to invite me to shower with him.
For the next awful moment, I considered saying yes.
What the actual fuck, Horatio?
“What I’m trying to say is I’m happy to heat dinner, if you’re hungry. We could eat together. I mean, that’d be nice, you know?”
“Did Kristoff tell you that I was lonely?”
Although he was already flushed from exertion, I couldn’t miss the pinkening of his ears. He straightened. “Maybe I’m lonely.”
I wanted to call bullshit—except he was accustomed to what I assumed was a very boisterous dinner table.
At least, I would’ve guessed that, given two younger siblings.
“That would be acceptable. I planned to do an hour’s work before dining.
By then, you’ll have had your shower—” And I’m not going to think about you naked and soaping off. “—so we can eat at that time.”
“Sure.” Dade wiped the sweat from his brow. “But do you have to work? I mean, can’t you relax in front of the television?”
“No, I can’t. I have a presentation to the Board of Directors tomorrow. In fact, after we’ve supped, I need to return to my review of the slides.”
Dade wiped his face with a towel and then, unexpectedly, punched me in the arm. Lightly, but it startled me nonetheless. “Supped? Jesus, who talks like that?”
I gave him a hard stare. “I do.”
He shrugged. “Each to his own. See you in an hour.” He headed out of the room before I could compose myself.
His normally blond hair had been darker from the sweat. His bright-blue eyes shone.
And I shouldn’t have observed any of that. Or should’ve done it impartially. Instead, my cock stirred. Now I’d spend the next fifteen minutes replaying the scenario in my mind and imagining him naked in the shower.
I doubled back to the front door, snagged my briefcase, and headed to my office to drop it off.
Then I strode into my bedroom where I removed my jacket and tie.
Sometimes, when I came home, I changed into jeans and a Henley.
Tonight, though, I wanted to maintain my status as a professional businessman. Businessperson.
Executive.
As I sat at my desk, though, my mind wandered.
Not just to the shower—although that featured prominently in my imaginings.
No, my mind replayed our dinner a couple of nights ago.
Hadn’t he said he had interviews today? I should ask him how those had gone.
And I should also make it clear I was pleased he was using the gym equipment—but that he needed to keep the volume down.
This building had excellent soundproofing, but I felt no need to test that theory.
On the hour exactly, I emerged to the aroma of fish and garlic.
Dade was placing two plates at the table. When he caught sight of me, he grinned. “Yeah, I figured you’d be exactly on time. I found a couple of domes, but I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use them.” He pointed to the table. “Salmon, roasted baby potatoes, and Brussel sprouts.”
I didn’t miss the wince.
“You don’t have to eat the sprouts. I happen to enjoy them.”
He gave me a grateful smile. “Perfect, you can have mine, and I’ll eat the frozen carrots I heated up.”
I cocked my head. “When were you going to eat them?”
“After dinner. Mom drilled into me that vegetables were important. In fact, she made me promise to eat some every day, and today was kind of chaotic, and—”
Holding up my hand, I—to my relief—silenced the stream of words. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
“Great. I checked on the internet and they said white wine goes with fish. Well, someone said cabernet, but I wasn’t certain whether that was right. Anyway, I’ve poured you a glass.”
I eyed his place setting. “You’re not having some?”
He flushed.
I cocked my head.
“Uh, alcohol doesn’t go well with my antidepressant.” He hunched his shoulders.
After a moment, I moved to him, placing my hand gently on his upper arm. “I’m glad you feel you can be honest with me. I should know what your regime is because, as your roommate, I might…” I floundered a bit.
He rattled off the name of a drug I didn’t recognize, but made a note to read up on later. Then, after removing my hand from his impressive biceps, I sat. “Thank you for this.”
His hesitation was clear, but then he sat and eyed me.
I laughed. “I don’t pray over my food. Although if you do—”
“Uh, no. Not my jam.”
“Then let’s eat.”
And I’ll try to ignore how damn attractive you are and how I want to eat you up right along with the salmon.